A Single BlueBird
by PolandSpringz
Summary: "The story of seeing eye-to-eye."
1. Walk

A young man swung his legs casually as he sat on the branch of an old tree that was just beginning to blossom. He lifted his arm as a bird flew over and landed on his finger. Its nest was a couple branches above him, and it was covered with pale pink petals, a couple inches of sunlight peeking through the twigs. He glanced at the birds small black eyes before mumbling a cheerful "okay" and kneeling on the branch carefully, before reaching up and placing his finger right at the edge of one of the nest's twigs, creating a bridge as the bird walked across and stood safely high above the boy.

A few minutes later, the boy had hopped down from his perch and began to walk around the forest. It was always so calm and peaceful in here, even in the coldest months. Although the other seasons were nice, the boy seemed to prefer springtime over all. His older sister had told him many years ago that spring was time of change, the time of meeting someone new. The boy smiled as he thought of his older sister, even though it pained him in his heart to do so. Yet, thinking of her constant cheerfulness, the boy just couldn't seem to break down and cry. Instead, he continued to smile as he walked through the forest that was bustling with life yet so desolate when it came to people.

The boy walked under a canopy of tree branches that let in just enough sunlight to illuminate the path he had chosen to walk along. The sunlight also casted beautiful shadows on the lush grass that child had walked through so many times. It was strange how even though he had walked down this path so many times, the grass never seemed to get trampled and create a solid dirt path. The boy reached a fork in the road and stood still for a moment. The other road led towards town, where he normally went when he reached the fork, but the other he didn't normally go into. It didn't have the markings of his recent footprints and it led deeper into the woods. Although, for some odd reason, the path that was less traveled by appealed to him more and he chose to follow it. Little did he know that it would make all the difference in his life.

A faint tweeting from the bird he had encounter previously disrupted his thoughts as he was walking and he looked up in time to see the shadow of the blue bird gliding along the top of the forest canopy. It chirped quietly and the boy thought nothing of it as he followed along the overgrown path of trees and bushes.


	2. Knock

A young woman swung her legs leisurely as she sat in an old oak wood chair sipping tea. She heard a soft chirping from outside her window and stood up and glanced out her window. A small cerulean bird was resting on the pear tree outside the woman's cottage. Her timid, nature only showed when she encountered other humans, which had only happened once. When she was around animals she felt a sense of serenity, even if she couldn't understand them. She rested her hand on the windowsill and in a bright, merry voice, she began to converse with the tiny creature.

"Hey where are you from, little one?" The woman stretched her left arm past the window-frame and pressed a finger against the branch in front of the little bird's feet. She smiled and tilted her head to give the bird assurance that it was safe to come to her. When the bird didn't respond, she moved her finger and placed it on its feet, pressing against them slightly. The bird backed up on the branch, but eventually cocked its head in rejoinder and stepped onto the perch. Gradually, the woman brought her finger towards her and when it had about reached her chest she lifted it up towards her eye-level and used her other hand to pet the creature's head. Unfortunately, it did not agree with her gesture, and it jumped off her finger and left her.

_Alone again, eh? It's only three in the afternoon though. They normally are all out this time of day. _

The woman poured herself another cup of tea and sat down again. Outside her window, the sound of the warm summer breeze rustling the leaves mixed with the little birds' chatter. The young adult peered at her reflection in the tea. Her cream colored wavy hair was tinted caramel and so where her cherry eyes. Her pale skin was of a pretty tan and for a moment, the woman wasn't herself. In that little tea cup, another woman was there, a woman who couldn't go outside either. Knowing that, the woman pressed her finger against the tan liquid and watched as the world distorted, and she didn't feel so alone.

A soft whistle of a bird indicated its passing by along with the gentle hush of the humid breeze that brought a small daisy into the house. The flower landed in the woman's tea and seeing that tiny life, the woman smiled. She stood up and gathered some books from the shelves to read, her favorite-the pale blue one that sat atop the dresser beside a vase and her mother's picture, placed on the very pinnacle of the pile, with a pressed flower as a bookmark in the page.

The woman rested the many story books on the wooden table before taking a seat and opening the one from past generations. The pages were wrinkled, dog-eared, torn in some spots, and the some of the writing was smeared. It had been written many centuries ago, and was no longer able to withstand the new age. The only story that was still fully intact and readable was hidden within the end of the book and it told such a sad tale. It was the tale her mother wrote, about a medusa that lived before the young woman. The medusa had created a never-ending world that only brought misfortune to those who didn't live there. It had separated one's family and destroyed another. The woman ignored the fact that the birds had stopped their chatter and became completely absorbed in the story when suddenly-

_knock, knock_


End file.
